Well, I guessed that was to be expected. . .
I looked over and Julian had woken up from his nap, so Ambrose was taking down the supplies for my gourmet hot chocolate with one hand and cradling Julian with the other, his fuzzy baby head nuzzling at Ambrose’s neck.
My insides began to melt into a freaking puddle.
Goddamn Ambrose.Why did he have to make everything so fucking complicated?
He was doggedly, stubbornly trying to be a better man. And sometimes it really fucking pissed me off.
Because the way my skin felt watching him was absolutely sinful.
The things I wanted him to do to me were fuckingnasty.
I wanted his fingers so tight on me that I gasped, I wanted his hand on my ass until it stung, I wanted a lot of things I shouldn’t.
And then after a restlesss night tossing and turning to get into a comfortable position with my bump,I still hadn’t gone into labor at 41 weeks and 0 days.
And nothing was working.
My lower back aching, I walked down the hallway and sat down with my laptop at the table. I should decorate for Christmas, but I had absolutely zero energy to.
What methods had I not tried yet?
“Can I get you anything?” Ambrose asked, pushing his glasses up his nose as he walked into the room wearing Julian in a sling and a dish cloth in his hand.
Oh my god
“How about stop arousing me with your domestic competence?!”I wanted to scream at him, but I didn’t.
“No,” I said. “I’m going to the store for some dates. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“I’ve had an STD test,” he said. “It came back negative. In case you want to trythatmethod of jump-starting labor.”
“I don’t know to what you refer,” I said. “Goodbye.”
When I was back I ate three dates in a row and, while it was a very pleasant experience, I didn’t feel any contractions.
Grrrr
“There’s one method you haven’t tried,” Ambrose said, shutting the door to the bedroom where Julian would be napping.
Oh shit
“Nipple stimulation.”
“I don’t know if that one would be very helpful,” I stalled, trying not to look at my ex-husband.
He stood at the entrance to the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a button undone at his throat.
Ambrose nodded. Didn’t try to lecture at me. Didn’t try to come back with studies on the subject.
“OK. If you ever want to try it, just ask,” he said.
Fuck it
“All right,” I said, leaning back against the counter before I lost my courage. “Do it fast before I change my mind.”
I thought he might try to take his time, but he obeyed me, taking two quick steps closer and putting both hands on my shirt. My skin began to heat up when I felt his fingers on my breasts and he yanked at the fabric, spraying buttons everywhere. My shirt tore open with a violent rip.
